Gathering of Flowers
by L.Simpsonjazzgirl
Summary: AU. As part of a deal, Lisa marries Fat Tony's son Michael but learns she is not alone to self-sacrifice in the name of ambition and family. When they unexpectedly fall in love & build a successful empire together, they struggle against rivals & jealous exes. Meanwhile, Maggie secretly works at a shady bar to figure out what she wants in life...and finds herself in a love triangle.
1. Secrets

**Author's notes:** Welcome! I really hope you will enjoy my fanfic. I have actually been away from fanfic writing for several years and have only just gotten back into it, so please excuse me if some things don't match up properly or whatnot. I already have the entire story figured out, as I've had this idea for over one year now…so please, please, PLEASE leave me a review, preferably for each chapter if you can! This way, I will know if there is any actual interest in my fanfic for me to finish it.

Many other characters will also be making significant appearances later on. They include (and are not limited to), in no particular order:  
>- Michael D'Amico (Fat Tony's son)<br>- Fat Tony  
>- Johnny Tightlips<br>- Anna Maria (Fat Tony's late wife)  
>- Sideshow Bob and his son Gino<br>- Cecil Terwilliger  
>- Nelson Muntz<br>- Gerald Sampson  
>- Snake and his son Jeremy<br>- Jessica Lovejoy  
>- Bart Simpson<br>- Ling Bouvier (Selma's adopted daughter; cousin to Bart, Lisa, and Maggie)  
>- Allison Taylor<p>

Thank you, and enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: <em>Secrets<br>_**

Maggie looked up into the wide blue sky as she listened to the roaring sounds of nearby planes taking flight. Soon these giant, man-made machines of aerodynamics would be reduced to nothing more than tiny ornamental kites in the sky. She chuckled to herself as she puffed her cigarette. Smoking always put her in a philosophical mood. It was amazing to see that even the best of mankind's technology could not overtake the formidable vastness of the natural world.

There were very few clouds today. It had always scared her as a child that the sky seemed so deep and eternal - she felt so insignificant as she envisioned herself standing on the earth against such an open sky. She and her sister Lisa both shared this little quirk...Bart had never paid attention to the poetic aspects of Mother Nature...but Maggie also remembered how safe and relieved she felt when Lisa would hold her hand as they both stared up at the sky. She smiled as she remembered the summers of yesteryears, lying down on the grass with her brother and sister as they rested from playing outside.

The beeping of her watch awakened Maggie from her daydream, and she stomped out her smoke before she headed inside. It always took a good fifteen minutes until the baggage were received. This was not her first time picking up Lisa from the airport.

"Maggie!" A demure figure approached from the blurring crowd.

Maggie extended her arms as she ran towards her sister. "Welcome home, Lisa. I've missed you!"

After their hug, Lisa looked around. "Where are the others? You're not the only one picking me up again, are you?"

Maggie took one of Lisa's duffel bags as they walked out to the parking lot. "Bart's been working overtime these days, nearly twelve hours each day or so. Mom's also at work. It's too bad she was scheduled to work today; she really wanted to come with me to pick you up. How have you been? I'm so glad you're back, you deserve a good long break!"

Lisa smiled at her little sister. "Actually, I'm not really here on vacation. I've come to discuss with a potential business partner regarding a start-up company, possibly working with the city."

"Business partner? Here? Well, somehow I have a hard time believing that anybody in Springfield is literate enough to be worth your time." laughed Maggie.

"Oh, Maggie," giggled Lisa. "Actually, it's not a stranger. It's Cecil Terwilliger, Sideshow Bob's younger brother. You know – the _less_ insane one of the bunch. We sort of kept in touch after my volunteer hours with the prison."

Maggie slightly froze up at the mention of Sideshow Bob's name. "Oh. I – I didn't even know Bob had a younger brother." She tried to keep her cool. "And you are sure that he's 'less' crazy than the older one?"

Lisa loaded up her stuff into the trunk of the car. "He and I first kinda 'bonded' after I foiled his ill-conceived plan of trying to kill Bart and myself so that he could one-up his brother. You were a baby back then, so of course you won't remember. But in high school, I was volunteering at the prison because they badly needed any volunteers they could get…and then he helped me with my chemistry project by funding me with his prison dollars for the local science competition…which of course, turned out to be a bust," she trailed off as she remembered 'that day'. It had been almost ten years, but much to her chagrin, she could not help but still feel the bitterness from losing unfairly to a rival. "Anyway, he's actually a pretty sane person…who's had a few mental setbacks." Lisa admitted dryly.

"Guess the 'Revolving Door syndrome' was just a myth, hey?" joked Maggie. But deep inside, she felt a little uneasy that Lisa had such a close connection to the Terwilligers. It was not the fact that Lisa was friends with an ex-prisoner – Maggie actually thought that was rather cool of her otherwise boring sister – but a relative of that megalomania of a Bob Terwilliger was another matter. And his weird, eccentric son of his from school who never stopped staring at her. Maggie was itching for another cigarette when suddenly –

"Ugh. What is that stench? Smells like Aunt Patty and Selma's," Lisa grimaced as she settled in the passenger seat. "Are they over at our house today?" She added rather disappointedly.

"Well…no, not really." Maggie anxiously replied. She was hoping the cigarette smells had been extinguished by her "stripper-sweet" perfume. Stupid cheap ass perfume…even though it was a gift from her boyfriend, and she had cherished it dearly until now. "So how was Darfur this year, Lisa?" She hurriedly digressed.

Lisa looked out the car window as they passed along the streets. "It was fine. We dug two new wells for one of the villages close to the western border area. We also finally finished one of the major schoolhouses in Geneina – you remember – the one I drew the blueprint for three years ago."

Maggie did not remember, but she nodded anyway. "That's awesome!" She really could not think of anything else to say.

They drove on in silence for a while, until Lisa finally spoke again. "How is Dad doing?" It was as if she had been afraid to ask before.

Maggie stifled a sigh before replying. "He's doing great. Improved so much since the last time you saw him. You don't have to worry, Lisa." Not to mention the impending hospital bills, and that damned threatening letter from the IRS. She turned on the radio to drown out her anxiety. Maggie quickly glanced at her sister. Mom had said never to let Lisa know about it. Would she catch on?

Fortunately for Maggie, Lisa was still gazing meditatively out the window. The town had changed very little since she had left home – in fact, there had been so few changes that many of the buildings were now shabby and timeworn. There was, however, one particular complex that seemed to have been recently built. It stood out from the rest of the dilapidating scenery.

"Why on earth is there an office building here in the middle of such a wasteland?" inquired Lisa, as she studied its clean white walls and the tall frames of windows.

"I think they're finally turning this place around. I can't remember who, but some rich guy bought most of the land titles here and other parts of Springfield. They're probably going to try and turn this dump into a town that matters," Maggie droned on in a preoccupied voice. She was more into the radio music than city affairs.

Lisa meant to ask more questions, but seeing how Maggie was only half-present in the conversation, she let it pass and continued to watch the passing streets. She was glad to see the rows of flowers and shrubs that had been planted along the streets by her high school Environmental Club was still around; they brightened up the old, drab surroundings with their cheery, youthful glint of green, white, and yellow.

As the family station wagon drove on, a large, intimidating man walked around from the corner and admired the same rows of flowers. Even after years of living a gruff life of organized crime and underworld businesses, Fat Tony never stopped appreciating the simple beauties of nature. Even he could not deny that they were more beautiful than a briefcase full of fresh, unmarked bills or a custom, hand-crafted submachine gun – but work was another matter. He continued onto the complex and gazed up at his stately, new building before stepping inside the pristine floors.

It had taken several painful years to plan and design this – and finally, a portion of his dreams had been solidified into material reality. Of course, the real goal behind all this was still out of reach. Though much progress had been made, time was nonetheless a merciless force and Fat Tony knew that his body and mind would only grow older – and weaker. He went up the stairs and examined the second floor, where the rest of the cubicles would be, and eventually reached the third floor where it was laid out for larger rooms and other offices. He entered the main conference room of the building where the table and chairs were already set up and polished; the varnish of the paint catching the reflection of natural light. Out the surrounding panoramic windows revealed a marvelous, sprawling view of the Springfield skyline in a backdrop of deep, deciduous mountains.

The footsteps from behind broke his reverie. "You're early as usual," he spoke without turning around. "How are you, Johnny Tightlips?"

As expected, the latter did not reply, but instead he walked up beside Fat Tony facing the windows. "The boys have outdone themselves on this one." he commented.

"Indeed." Fat Tony turned around and sat down in one of the chairs. With Johnny Tightlips, minced words were never needed. The latter placed down the folders he had been carrying before Fat Tony, and it was straight to business talk from there.

"You think Michael will show up today?" asked Fat Tony after a while. He contrived to sound casual, but Johnny could not be fooled. He glanced up before focusing back on the pile of documents. "Hard to say," he replied, adjusting his glasses a bit, "Now that he's shacking up with that Lovejoy girl again, it seems he has more than a handful to deal with."

Fat Tony grimaced as he took out a cigar. "So much for those four years in Jersey. He certainly hasn't outgrown his foolish thirst for debauchery." He then looked rather resentfully at Johnny. "I thought you said he was excelling in his studies. Magna cum laude and all that! What bullshit!" Fat Tony banged the table with his fist to retain his growing anger.

Johnny Tightlips did not even flinch. He flipped to the next page of the clipboard he was holding. "But it's one thing being book smart, and a whole other thing being street smart. Lovejoy is a crafty little minx. Didn't you see this coming when she lent us the money?" Johnny took off his glasses and looked straight into Fat Tony's glaring eyes. "Michael's got a weakness for the ladies. _You _understand, don't you?"

It seemed like a backhanded remark enough, but Fat Tony decided to let it go, as he was too emotionally tired to acknowledge Johnny's grudge. He had not wanted to deal with that girl again, but unbeknownst to Johnny Tightlips, Fat Tony had been low on funds to secure the land sales to build this complex. Revenue had decreased ever since the closing down of some 'businesses' he used to run – it was all part of his grand plan that only few of his men knew about. But it did make sense that his son should not inherit the family fortune and all of Tony's possessions of both intangible and material nature – without also inheriting his flaws. A pretty woman was more dangerous than a game of Russian roulette, he was once told. At least with a gun, you either end up alive or dead in that one moment. With a girl, it was hook, line, and sinker for life – or at least until whenever she decides to throw you away.

He cleared his throat as several more men then entered the room. "Hey boss, this place is killer! I'm impressed over here with those guys from over there!" admired Louie as he walked around the room, looking out the windows. "You can see our old headquarters from over here. Neat!" observed Legs. The other men murmured excitedly in agreement.

Fat Tony stood up and extended his arms. "Gentlemen, I am truly happy that you have come today for our first 'official' meeting. I apologize that I do not have adequate refreshments and other welcoming delicacies, for as you see, the interior is not fully furnished yet. But I would like to invite all of you to my home after the meeting to properly celebrate the _birth_ of our corporation." The men cheered in unison as they settled down in their seats. More men arrived, some with their sons who were also involved in the business, but his own son was still yet to be seen. Fat Tony glanced at his phone before deciding against calling him.

Later in the evening, Fat Tony excused himself from his company and snuck into his private study. There was a light flashing on his desk phone. It was a voice message left by Michael, clearly inebriated and disoriented from whatever substance he had indulged on from earlier in the day. Fat Tony growled and knocked off several things from his desk in a careless moment of anger. That girl was an awful influence on him – Michael himself had even admitted once – but here he was hooked on her again, like a failed stint at rehab. He needed something to break Michael off from this toxic pattern; a new hobby or a new source of influence. But from where? Clearly, four years at an out-of-state school had done nothing for him, except to reunite him with his off-and-on girlfriend afterwards. Fat Tony gave a defeated sigh as he bent down to pick up the mess he made. Amidst the strewn documents, folders, and magazines was today's newspaper which he had not read yet. Fat Tony never liked to miss the daily news, no matter how mundane they were. He skimmed through the headlines. "Locally renowned girl returns home to make good yet again." Fat Tony recognized the name as he continued to read.

Meanwhile, a very nervous girl at the Simpsons house sat down to dinner with her family that night.

"What's wrong, Lisa?" asked Marge as she set down a plate for her daughter.

Lisa glanced down at her phone once more before setting it aside. "I just can't seem to reach Cecil. I've tried calling him several times earlier today, but he's still not answering. I wonder if something has happened to him."

Maggie exchanged a furtive look with Bart across the table. "He's probably just busy with other things. I mean, people _do_ have dinner 'round this time of the hour, you know." Secrets. So damn many of them to keep.

She then remembered herself what time it was. With one swift movement, she downed her entire glass of milk before getting up and announced, "Mom, I'll be excused for a second. I have to go to the…bathroom." Without waiting for an answer, Maggie went to her room, much to the confusion of Marge and Lisa. After a while, Bart came upstairs to her room as well.

"Well?" Maggie demanded as she glared at her brother, who sat himself down on a nearby chair.

Bart looked somber as he pulled out a crumbled envelope and held it out. "It includes what I earned today." he said.

Maggie pounced on the envelope and hastily counted the contents inside. She looked up, aghast. "This isn't enough!" She pulled out her backpack and took out her own wallet. "Even with my pay, it will barely cover the cost. Ugh. I hope this Cecil person doesn't have anything to do with Bob's loansharking scheme."

Bart continued to look down at his shoes. "I also think I might get fired again."

She stopped counting the money. "That doesn't make sense. You just passed your 3-month training. How does that happen so soon?"

"Apparently I demolished the 'wrong' building today. Supposed to be owned by one of the crime families here. The boss was pretty mad…though that's a bit of an understatement." He sighed.

Maggie placed the bills neatly back into the envelope before slipping into her backpack. "I'm sure you'll be fine," she spoke absent-mindedly. "The mafia aren't _so_ terrible. Sure, they _do_ a lot of terrible stuff, but they're not as 'scary' as you'd think."

"What makes you so confident about that?" queried Bart suspiciously. "You think these goons for Bob aren't so 'terrible'? You must be smoking some bad – "

"Just help me think of an excuse for us to go out tonight, Bart. We gotta keep Mom and Lisa in the dark." She sighed. "I have a bag of 'treasure' that might excuse our lack of cash."

Later that night, Bart and Maggie drove down to the Waterfront district, where they walked the rest of the way to an old warehouse. A dark figure approached from the shadows. "Simpson?"

Maggie held out the envelope, and tried out her toughest voice. "Sorry buddy, but I'm a little short this week. I got something that might even out the balance though, so hold your breath."

The hoodie-clad goon snorted with a contemptuous laugh. "You really think you got somethin' worthwhile? Just tryin' to buy your way out, aren't you?" He started to sound angry.

Maggie took out a Ziploc bag full of white powder. Bart stared wide-mouthed at his little sister, but she could not see his shocked expression in the darkness. "This is at least _three grand_ right here. Enjoy your new powdered currency." She turned away to walk back with Bart when the guy suddenly grabbed her shoulder.

"You still owe us the rest, Simpson! Don't forget the 100% daily interest either."

Maggie tried to break away from his grip. "When was that part of the deal!? Let go!"

Bart stepped in and shoved him back. "Don't touch my sister, you fucking creep!" They started to fight when suddenly, a group of police officers appeared from the corners.

"Put your hands up!" screamed one of the cops as they surrounded the trio. "You have the right to remain silent. Put your hands up where I can see 'em!" He motioned with his gun.

Maggie reluctantly raised her arms as she squinted from the blaring lights of the oncoming police cruisers.

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><p><strong>End of Chapter 1.<strong>

**_Notes:_  
><strong> - Cecil Terwilliger and Lisa really _did_ have a lively interaction in the Simpsons comic "_Sideshow Sibling Showdown_" (2012) by Bongo Comics.

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><p><strong>Next Chapter:<strong> _Bar Fight and a Proposal  
><em>


	2. Bar Fight and a Proposal

**Chapter 2: **_**Bar Fight and a Proposal**_

The sea of whiskey seemed bottomless as Lisa twirled her finger around the rim of the glass, deep in thought. She looked around the gloomy bar, with its inhabitants just as gloomy as their surroundings. They seemed to blend into the drab wallpaper, with only a bit of light to illuminate their life-likeness.

Earlier that day…

"Lisa!"

Maggie stood up expectantly as she entered the room. Lisa sat down without looking at Maggie, and said nothing as she clutched onto her purse.

"I…I'm sorry for dragging you down here. I guess the cops told you everything that happened?" Maggie felt compelled to ask, after an unbearable moment of silence.

Lisa remained quiet.

Maggie cleared her throat, nervously. "Did you say anything to Mom?"

Lisa finally slapped her purse down on the table. "Mom's working day and night. Dad is in the hospital. We're neck-high in debt and you and Bart are locked up over some drug transaction. Do you really think I'm stupid enough to put her in more stress?"

"I'm glad we're finally getting a dialogue going here," spoke Maggie in a low, resentful voice. She was feeling rather hurt over Lisa's hostility and her misunderstanding. "But you should hear me out. Don't think that I hadn't had a good reason to…"

"To flunk out of school and sell coke for a living? Good god, Maggie. It's high school! Don't tell me that you can't even – "

"I don't. For the last damn time, I was only holding it for someone else! And I'm sorry I'm not as smart and _'able'_ as you, Lisa, to be _able_ to handle two part-time jobs and studying full-time at school. But you know, Dad wasn't always sick when you were in high school. Mom wasn't always so busy working that – "

"Oh, Maggie." Lisa groaned in disgust. "Maggie. Please, you _must_ have a better excuse than _that_."

Maggie's resentment was now growing into full-blown anger. She was taking deep breaths and seemed to be focusing on not to raise her voice.

"You're right, Lisa," she whispered hoarsely, "There is a better excuse. While you were out 'saving the world', your own family has been going to absolute shit. You got your fancy full-ride college scholarships, but where do you think your plane tickets, your luggage, and your care baskets all came from? Of course you _have _no idea, because it wasn't _your_ money. Of course you _had_ no idea, because we never told you anything!" Maggie was on the verge of tears, but she violently brushed her eyes with a fist and subsequently squinted from the pain of it. "Do you really think _we_ were stupid enough to put you in more stress? While you were so far away from home?"

"What's the matter, Lisa? You don't like your glass?" asked Moe, his brusque voice intruding over the murmuring harmony of the bar, breaking her from replaying the visit.

"Moe, I'm in a bit of a trouble. I've got so many problems, I don't even know where to begin." Lisa groaned. The whole story came out in a rather discombobulated manner.

In his usual, nonchalant style, Moe took a deep, sympathizing sigh, and started to wipe down the counter. "Not gonna lie, Lisa, but if there's one thing I learned in this godforsaken life, it's that your problems go away by _not_ talking too much about 'em."

She sighed. There really was no point in talking to Moe, the ever-cynic. Lisa wondered how Homer stayed friends with such a miserable bartender, and then realized that he was solely about the drinks. She at least appreciated her free drink, and sipped it accordingly.

Moe started to furiously wipe the empty beer glasses. "You know, I just don't get it. They always let real criminals on the loose, like murderers and robbers, but they sure know how to trample on the little guy with the little things. Maggie can't help it! She's doin' all she can for her family, and poor Bart can't seem to get no break…" he paused a moment to contain his anger and disappointment with the injustice of reality.

Lisa took a good sip of her whiskey, and then gripped her fist as she was determined to get the worst over and done with. "Moe, that's pretty much the reason why I'm here today. Maggie's in trouble again, and so is Bart. I just need some money to bail one of them out from jail – "

"Hey! What d'ya think you're tryin' to pull!?" Both Lisa and Moe jumped from the sudden outcry from the corner of the bar. Two bulky men were standing against each other, with a fallen table being their only pillar of distance. Cards and empty mugs were scattered on the ground in a messy pool of liquor.

"What's going on over here?" Moe growled and started to make his way to the men.

"This clown thinks I'm rippin' him off!" one of the men growled back. The other man suddenly grabbed Moe, and pulled out a gun.

"Gimme my money back, or I'll kill everybody in this bar! Startin' wit' this guy!" he screamed, as he waved the gun around Moe's head.

Lisa watched in horror and shock at the unfolding scene, and wondered uneasily why nobody was stepping in to help. There were many men in the room who also looked on in amazed terror – yet they seemed as if this was something to be expected. Was this a usual occurrence at the bar? The crazy man continued to wave his gun at other people. It was too much for Lisa.

With tremendous effort, she steadied herself off the stool and walked shakily towards the two men, who then turned and glared at her angrily. She held out her purse in front of her like a mini shield.

"Gentlemen," she began softly, trying to sound assertive but could not hide the trembling in her voice, "There's no need to fight over a simple game of poker."

"Hey, who are YOU to talk like that?" The man with the gun barked back.

Lisa firmly stood her ground. It was a little less scary now that she was here – though she desperately wished the man would put the gun away.

"The cops haven't been called yet," she continued, "or if they have, they're not here yet. So you still have a chance to walk away from this clean. Why would you risk being locked away in jail over a single game of poker, when you can have another opportunity to win…some other time?" She grinned nervously.

"You think it's easy enough to earn a livin', miss?" He spat furiously in contempt.

Lisa was running out of things to say. "Please, please let the bartender go. Whatever it was that you lost, I'll – I'll cover it. Here!" She pushed out her purse.

The man grabbed it, sending a half-conscious Moe tumbling to the floor. Lisa quickly held onto him as the man dug roughly through her purse, and tried to pull him away from the scene. Unfortunately, the man grabbed her shoulder.

"This isn't enough." He shoved the purse violently back into her arms.

Lisa stumbled with it and tried to settle her nervousness. "I'm really sorry," she stammered, "but this is honestly all I have. If you…if you'll maybe accept a check…or, or…"

"Bullshit! Why the hell am I even botherin' with an ugly whore like you?" He threw her to the ground.

Just as he raised his gun, somebody shot the ceiling above the man's head. He froze as he watched bits of the ceiling fell onto the floor.

"Are you sure that's wise? Shooting a law-abiding citizen in broad daylight?" A smooth, velvety voice spoke from a darkly-lit corner. Another large man appeared from the shadows, along with slimmer figures of two other men.

"F-Fat Tony?" The gun man quickly placed his gun down and raised his arms. "I-I didn't mean no trouble, I swear!"

"Be a good boy and put that gun away." Fat Tony spoke in a fatherly voice. Much to Lisa's surprise, the gun man complied and quickly came cowering to the mob boss's feet. Fat Tony grabbed the man by the collar and held him at eye level, glaring at him in disgust.

"_Facia bruta_," he dropped the man onto the ground. "Legs. Louie. Take funny boy here out for a ride. Go for an hour or two." They grabbed the man and dragged him out of the bar.

With the commotion now clearly dissipating away, the other bar patrons returned to their activities as if nothing had happened. Lisa was still in shock of the affair, but she scrambled to her feet and helped Moe up. "Are you okay?" she asked as he rubbed his head.

"Oh…nothin' that a little whiskey won't cure…" mumbled Moe as he staggered towards the bar. He then grabbed a nearby bottle and brought it to his lips in a ravenous swig.

"Moe, I can't help but notice that nobody called the cops. Does this kind of thing…happen so often…?" Lisa queried, as she nervously watched Moe take another massive swig at the whiskey bottle.

"Honey, things are rough all over. I don't blame 'em a bit." He wiped his mouth with his arm. "Everybody's strugglin' to get by. This town's fall back on some hard times ever since Burns outsourced most of his workforce at the plant…pretty much the only major employer in this place…but the property taxes have gone up, 'long with other things."

"But I noticed there were some new buildings," said Lisa, as she remembered the white building complex from few days ago, "I heard that someone recently bought a bunch of land in downtown Springfield – that they were going to turn it around into a business district or something?"

Moe laughed bitterly. "Yeah, well…the rich keep gettin' richer and the rest of us bums keep gettin' poorer. Even I hardly make enough to keep this place open." He took a few more consecutive drinks, and finally put the bottle away. "Anyway," he began to remember, "what were you going to ask me, Lisa?"

Lisa administered a smile and put it on, as she met the old bartender's eyes. "It was nothing," she whispered. "I was just…looking for some cheer-up words. You know, you being a bartender and all, haha…" She grabbed her purse and left some bills on the counter. "Thanks for the free drink, Moe. But let me pay off some of my dad's tab."

"I couldn't let you do that, Lisa." Moe tried to push it back to her, but Lisa declined. "It's fine, Moe! Please let me, I want to. I mean, it's barely enough to cover it, but please take it for now!"

Moe stared for a moment before reaching out to hug her. "You don't know how much this helps, Lisa," he whispered, "I ain't proud of taking money from you, but I am so grateful. I just wish that your dad will get better soon…he doesn't know how generous and sweet his kids are…"

As Lisa walked out of the door, she suddenly felt someone tap her shoulder. She turned around in surprise.

"Excuse me," It was Fat Tony, with a shrewd smile on his face. Lisa then realized that he had been watching her all this time. She froze in mild fear. "Miss…Lisa Simpson, is it?"

Lisa nodded nervously. "Yes, that's me. He-hello, Fat Tony." She was not sure if she could still address him by his nickname; so many things had changed in Springfield, could the ways of addressing the mafia still be as casual as it was before?

"I hope you won't mind my associate from back there," he motioned to the bar. "You see, he was a new addition to our company. He's not used to normal civilization, as he has just been rehabilitated after spending many years in the proverbial slammer. I fully apologize for the way he acted towards you and the barkeep. I take full responsibility for his lack of decorum and manners."

"It was nothing at all," squeaked Lisa. She cautiously grabbed at her throat to stop her voice from squeaking again.

"But I very much admire your courage in standing up for the bartender at such an urgent time of need. Not many people possess such decency and quick-thinking as you do, and not to mention, such a natural kind-heartedness for a fellow human being."

"Thank you, Fat Tony," murmured Lisa, starting to feel even more nervous with the way he was pursuing her, "but uh…I really can't help but wonder why you're taking so much notice of me suddenly. Not that, uh…" Lisa began to sweat as she quickly added, "not that it's a free country and you may do whatever you please, eh heh…"

He then smiled menacingly, and wasted no further words. "You are as quick-witted and observant as an _aquila_. I could not help but overhear all of your problems, Miss Simpson. I do not mean to be so bold, but – perhaps I may offer you a solution?"

Despite her fear of him, Lisa felt that she should not waste time listening to what his 'offer' would be. "I'm sorry, Mr…Fat Tony. I really do appreciate what you did for me back there…and I also appreciate you trying to offer me some kind of help right now…but I think I will manage on my own."

She continued to walk briskly down the street. However, Fat Tony started to follow her.

"I understand that your dear father is in the hospital, and we all know that medical bills are no ordinary trip to the bank. As are late mortgage payments, unpaid taxes, and _bail_ money to help out our loved ones who's had a little run-in with the law."

Lisa slowed down her pace, her curiosity finally overtaking her staunchness of fear. "What is it that you're offering?" she sighed.

Fat Tony gently stopped Lisa by placing his arm on her shoulder. He stood in front of her, and looked directly in her eyes as he made his big proposal.

"I would like you to marry my son."

**End of Chapter 2.**


	3. Making of Decisions

**Author's notes:** Thank you for reading my fanfic, and the favorites! I really do appreciate them all. I'm very sorry for not updating as quickly as I should…but it is a busy period for me at school right now. I'll update more quickly in the next week or two though, during spring break

As for other characters, including Anna Maria – they're not in this chapter, but most likely in Chapter 5 or 6, depending on how I organize the story. There will be lots of hints dropped, though. I promise you that there will be many twists later on ;)

Also – for those who **don't** know who Michael D'Amico is, check out the Simpsons episode "The Mook, the Chef, the Wife, and Her Homer" from Season 18! If you play _The Simpsons: Tapped Out_ on your phone, then you may be interested to know that Michael, along with Don Vittorio, is a NEW character that can be unlocked in the latest content update (Level 49)! It's so coincidental that the update came only a few days ago (Jan 28, 2015)!

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: <em>Making of Decisions<em>**

Fat Tony stood on the terrace of his bedroom as he inhaled his favorite Cuban smoke, watching the rising sun from the misty horizon. There was nothing like having a fresh cigar on a crisp Spring morning. It complemented the serene beauty of the world breaking from its wee early hours – just calming enough to make him forget yesterday's hardships, as well as gradually prepare him for what would be a brand new day, untainted by any mishaps and other banes of existence.

And then…he remembered.

_"I'm sorry, but…what would I have anything to do with your son?" she protested, briefly forgetting who she was talking to._

_"Allow me to explain," he went on calmly, "but in actuality, you should be the one to thank me for this favor."_

_Lisa listened on in disbelief from the oddity of his demand._

_"I need a young, educated patsy without a tainted reputation like yourself associated with my businesses. Unfortunately, Michael is already blemished by being a crime boss's son. You need a job, and you need the money to help out your family and all your financial woes. I can fix it - all of it - and continue to do so if you help me out."_

_"But what does that have to do with marrying your son?"_

_Fat Tony smiled. "There is nothing more 'authentic' than a family-owned business. It is the purest of all corporations. Also, you would only benefit largely if you were part of the family without catching unwanted attention from the fat, fat pigs in D.C. All I ask is a simple wedding and a temporary employment with my company. How about it, Lisa?"_

_Her hesitance made him a little more anxious, which prompted him to say, "You have twenty four hours to make up your mind. However," he lit a new cigar to calm his nerves, "it is well-documented what happens to those who refuse an offer from the Family."_

He had not meant to sound threatening – the last thing he wanted was for her to leave town again, even though he wondered whether she would leave her family like that. But then again, she had always been ambitious as a child, he remembered, and always seemed to distance herself away from her outlandish family as much as she could in public. 'Better to fight with allies than to fight without them', thought Fat Tony. He put out his cigar with a resigned air and walked back inside to put on his robe to go downstairs when he heard a woman's giggling outside the hallway of his room.

"Did you have a good time last night, babe?" chuckled Michael, as he kissed his girlfriend on the neck. He held her against the kitchen countertop as she smoked a cigar.

"Only when you _came_ over," Jessica kicked up her legs and wrapped them seductively around Michael's waist.

"I got tickets for a show tonight. It's a Chet Baker tribute. Maybe you can go with me?" He smoothed her hair as he spoke, and leaned in for another kiss. But Jessica suddenly avoided it.

"Oh, babe! I actually have plans already." She brought up the cigar to her lips again as Michael looked at her with pained inquiry. She refused to elaborate any further.

"But…you just got back home from vacation like, yesterday. What other plans do you have?" He finally felt forced to ask, as he tried to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Jessica gently pushed him away as she hopped down from the countertop, and walked to the coffeemaker. "Work stuff," she replied promptly as she poured some cream and sugar into her mug, "I got a few things to settle with Dante, and – "

"Dante? You're still seeing that bastar– I mean…" Michael struggled to speak through his growing frustration, "you said that you were done with him." He managed to finish his sentence.

"It's not like that, baby." Jessica stared rather coolly into his eyes over her mug as she drank. "It really is work-related; a loan I took out from him way before. I just need to make sure we're still on the same terms about the payback details. You _know_ how it is with him, Michael." She smiled sweetly at him before bringing up her cigar again.

Michael reached for a mug and reluctantly poured himself some coffee, with all the zest gone out of his morning. "No," he began as he fumbled with opening a carton of milk, "I _don't_ know, Jessica. I just don't understand. If you needed something extra for whatever the hell it is that you needed the money for, _you_ know that I would've taken care of it for you. So _why_ are you doing this to me again?" He suddenly gave up on the milk and glared resentfully at her for an explanation.

Before she opened her mouth to speak, a fully-dressed and polished Fat Tony entered the kitchen and they immediately froze. He stood silently at the entrance for a while, his face as impassive as ever.

"You're up early. Early evening?" he remarked in the same impassive voice, breaking the awkward silence. He eyed the cigar Jessica was holding.

"Morning, Papa." muttered Michael, turning away rather shamefacedly from his father.

"Fat Tony," greeted Jessica in a sickly sweet voice, staring back at Fat Tony. She smiled with an air of self-assuredness, as she took another drag from her cigar.

Fat Tony hated that breathy, faux-seductive voice of hers. He then realized that the cigar was from his own cabinet, and her demeanor seemed to taunt him as if she knew that it belonged to him. He slowly exhaled his outrage and walked towards the cupboard for a glass. "Michael, I didn't even hear you come in last night. Where have you been?" Fat Tony added grumpily.

"Not to worry, Fat Tony. He was with me the entire night. We snuck in, made sure not to bother your sleep." quipped Jessica as she suddenly wrapped her arms around Michael from behind. Michael, who had not relented yet, unsuccessfully tried to pry himself away from her clutch but her grip was too tight. Fat Tony noticed this as he drank his glass of orange juice. Whatever game they were playing now, it did not make sense – just as it never had, throughout their entire relationship history. But he could not ignore the expression on Michael's face as Jessica seemed to be trying to 'placate' him with kisses.

"Michael, you missed yesterday's meeting, but you still need to be debriefed. We got lots of work to do today." He walked closer to them and tried to motion with his body language.

"But Dad," began Michael, as he turned to Jessica.

"It's all right, baby. You gotta do what you gotta do. Family always comes first," said Jessica in a sly voice, as she met Fat Tony's eyes, "Right?"

Michael reached for his keys in the bowl. "Let me at least give you a ride, babe."

"There's no need." interrupted Fat Tony with a firm voice. "Louie will chauffeur your girlfriend safely back to her house." And almost to the rhythm of the conversation, one of Fat Tony's button men arrived with the mentioned caporegime.

"Must be some urgent business stuff. Hopefully it has nothing to do with forgetting about an important _loan_ payment," cooed Jessica as she grabbed her coat. She glanced at Fat Tony again before giving a small peck on Michael's cheek. "Bye, babe. And of course, Fat Tony."

"Call me later?" Michael whispered as he kissed her in return.

Jessica only smiled. "If I got the time. Busy, busy."

Fat Tony waited until he heard the front door shut completely. It echoed across the lobby.

"Well, aren't you pathetic." griped Fat Tony as he saw Michael still staring at the door.

Michael turned around and faced his father with a mix of embarrassment and rage. "What was that all about, Dad? Jess and I were having a serious talk."

Fat Tony started to smoke another cigar. "No doubt about how much you're getting screwed over again."

"Aww, hell. What do YOU know about it anyway?" growled Michael.

"I know more about it than you, it seems. Are you blind? Deaf? Did you forget what you told me before?"

"That was a long time ago," sighed Michael, as he scratched his head, "but people change…and I was a little unhappy back then…"

"You were miserable, Michael." Fat Tony cut in angrily. "My goodness…you've fallen back into the same damn pattern you've been hogtied to for the last eleven years and you still can't realize it!"

Michael stared at the floor as he tried to calm himself down. "Well…this can't be the reason why you kicked her out so early." He looked up with a resigned expression. "What is that you wanted to talk about?"

.

Cecil was waiting, looking outside the window wall from his table when Lisa came tripping up from the corner of the street. He stood up in delight and went to meet her as she stepped inside the café.

"I must apologize for going off the grid there for a while," he spoke as he led her away, "but I've run into some 'unpleasantries' a few days ago." He added dryly.

Lisa sat down after taking off her coat. "Is everything all right? I couldn't reach your work phone either."

He gave an impatient sigh as he took out his briefcase. "Well, I suppose there's no beating around the bush. I got fired from Monsarno, ever since Bob took over as the new Chief Executive Officer."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Cecil." gasped Lisa.

He continued on. "Too much stuff on his mind, probably. His wife is leaving him, and he's not as close to his son as he would like to admit. But then again, perhaps it's just as well. I disagreed with a lot of the ways the company was heading to. A lot of others, particularly the lab workers, have also been laid off for voicing their opinion."

Lisa gazed at the papers on the table. "You know, we could employ them for _our_ research institute," she spoke hopefully, "Have you heard back from the city council?"

Cecil gestured at the papers. "Here's what they've given me. The city's broke. No money left to sponsor any new organizations for the public sector. They changed their minds at the very last minute too. All that planning for nothing," he grumbled.

Lisa looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Are there…do we have any private donors at all?" she whispered, knowing all too well what the answer would be.

"I've tried talking to some of my old colleagues, but unfortunately…no, I'm afraid we're on our own." Cecil spoke reluctantly as he gazed down at the crestfallen girl. "I'm sorry, Lisa. If it was up to me, I would use my personal funds to get us started." He started to gather up the documents.

"What happened to your hand?" Lisa suddenly noticed the cast around his wrist. She reached out to take a closer look, but Cecil quickly pulled it back.

"Just a minor accident from a few days ago."

"That doesn't have anything to do with the 'unpleasantries' you just mentioned, does it?"

Cecil finished packing up the papers. "Well, being involved in an ongoing conflict regarding your parents' will is an ordeal of its own kind…especially if it's publicized out on the _streets _because one of them was famous." He sipped his black coffee. "I only _wish_ it was between Bob and myself."

Lisa looked on with pained sympathy, and then stood up with a determined air. Her mind was made up.

"Where are you going?" asked Cecil as he watched Lisa hastily put on her coat and gloves.

"I have a potential business partner. Going to see him right now. I'll fill you in on the details later. "

"What?" Cecil sounded dubious. But Lisa had already flown.

.

The day had started out with only a few clouds, but now the sky showed no sign of sunlight as Fat Tony sat down with his associates at their old headquarters.

"I've been havin' some second thoughts about going legit," started one of the men at the table. "This means that we're gonna be spied on constantly _and_ lose money to the feds on a yearly basis. That's nuts!"

"They got tax breaks if you donate to charities though," countered Louie.

"How much money are we makin' now?" asked Legs. The others quieted down as they turned to Fat Tony.

Johnny Tightlips flipped through a few reports. "Overall profit is down around 3%, because we've close down our racetracks recently, but the horses are still costing us. Still having some trouble selling them, and the shelters won't take 'em either ever since the government cut their fundings."

Joey the Arsonist, a longtime soldier of the family, let out a sneer as he fiddled with a lighter. "Why don't we just 'euthanize' theem if we ain't gonna be usin' 'em no more?"

"Yes, great idea if you want to burn bridges before they're even built," replied Johnny sarcastically, "I'm sure we'll attract public investors that way."

Kenny the 'Problem', another long-time associate of the Springfield mafia, furiously inhaled his cigar before blowing it out. "You know what, Tightlips? Ever since you became the Consigliere, you been actin' all smart ass but you're not. You ain't so big, all you got is your puttana mother – "

Johnny started up in an uncharacteristic rage, knocking over his chair and others joined in on the dissonance by laughing and jeering. It would be an amusing sight to watch the surprisingly sturdy Tightlips rip up that crazy old bastard Kenny like a piece of French bread. Johnny was not known to make sudden outbursts, but he had always been rather sensitive whenever someone mentioned his mother, whether it was a joke…or not.

"Enough, gentlemen." Fat Tony raised a hand before things escalated and watched Legs help Johnny pick up his chair. "I am certain we can find a way to earn public trust without alienating our old allies or lose too much money."

"Well, the rest of us ain't so sure, boss." Louie nervously picked at his fingers. "None of us knows what to do, now that we've cut illegal betting, extortion, and racketeering from our list of businesses. And our neighbors are lookin' down at us. Yesterday, I had a Shelbyville guy trip me down on the street for no reason!" he whined.

"Oh, buck up, Louie. You're a grown man, for God's sake." Legs rolled his eyes.

"He tripped me pretty damn hard, ya know!" The men started to slack off again when a button man that had been keeping guard outside came into the room.

"Hey boss, are you expectin' a…what's your name again?" he turned to the small shadow behind him.

Lisa walked forward into the fluorescent light of the room, and shriveled up at the sight of all the hulking, sullen-faced men. "Lisa Simpson," she feebly responded.

"Welcome, Lisa! I knew you would make the right decision, as you always do." Fat Tony delightedly stood up and led her to the table.

She made a quick glance around to see if she recognized any of these people. There was *Louie, the curly-haired man with that squeaky voice who sometimes used to come to various meetings at Springfield Elementary for the free cookies; **Legs, the mob doctor that had once helped her win first prize in the Science Fair in the second grade by astonishingly being able to sew back Homer's severed thumb, and the quiet, dark-haired man with the thick eyebrows at the corner of the table must be Johnny Tightlips, who is supposedly a man that almost never talked. Other than these recognizable faces, Lisa drearily thought to herself that the rest were all members of the underworld – who would be her future colleagues and mentors.

"Gentlemen, you all know Miss Simpson, the young lady who has done so much for our fair city than the mayor and the government will ever dream of doing. She will be the one to lead us into greatness." he proudly announced.

"I am?" quivered Lisa.

"She is?" queried the rest of the men.

Fat Tony nodded. "Together with my son Michael, they shall bring forth a successful empire that will restore the people's faith in our original purpose and power – all of the noble things that symbolized Cosa Nostra, and will continue to live on for!"

The men started to noisily voice their confusion and doubt. Lisa tried to remain steady, despite her dizziness from all the craziness and the stifling, cigar smoke in the room.

"But…but…she's a total straniera! How can we trust her?" Louie waved his hands passionately.

"We're too used to thinking so secretively, but once this corporation-entity or whatever-you-call-it takes off, guess we don't have to?" wondered one of the men.

"That's the whole point of legitimate businesses." A firm voice came from the entrance. The others turned around in surprise.

"Why, it's Little Caesar," Fat Tony started to smile. "So you've decided to accept your destiny, Michael? What perfect timing." He extended his arms and led him to the table.

Lisa could not help but stare as he walked towards her as she struggled to find her voice. This was happening all so fast…and was this dark, broad-shouldered stranger really the same melancholy-eyed little boy from those innocent, long gone school days?

"Michael. Wow, it's been so long." she managed to whisper. She nervously extended her hand.

Michael stared right back into her eyes, unsmiling and without a hint of emotion as he shook her hand. "Ditto." he simply replied.

Fat Tony lit a cigar as he settled down into his seat. "We shall get right to it." He turned to Johnny Tightlips. "Call our lawyer friend who owes us a favor. Time is money, and we need not to waste any more of it."

.

**End of Chapter 3.**

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><p><em>Some episode references and notes:<br>_  
>*Louie: I can't remember if it was "Midnight Towboy" or another episode, but there was one where Louie was seen in the background of a meeting held at the elementary school along with a bunch of other townspeople. When Skinner announced that they were no longer giving out free cookies, Louie was one of the many people that walked out xD<p>

**Legs: He was revealed to be an experienced mob doctor in episode "Trilogy of Error."

-Joey the Arsonist and Kenny the Problem are some of Fat Tony's men seen from episode "Penny-Wiseguys."

-puttana: whore in Italian.

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><p>Thanks for reading, and stay tuned!<p> 


	4. New Beginnings, New Problems

_**Notes:**_ Hello. Due to a low volume of reader interest/reviews, I may stop updating on and may be finishing this story in drawings only on Deviantart. If you would like to me to continue updating here on this site, please leave me a review! It would not only show me that there is an actual interest in my story, but feedback would go a long way in motivating me to complete it. Otherwise, I will be making a permanent move to Deviantart. If you want to watch me on DA, please click on my Fanfiction Profile page for more info. Thanks!

This chapter is a bit long, but I hope you still enjoy. It's supposed to tie up some of the foundations that's supposed to make more sense later on, and so forth... ah, you'll understand what I mean later on! x_x

…..

**Chapter 4:** _New Beginnings, New Problems_

Michael was not a regular smoker, but today he could not help himself as he endured the long, legal banter between his father, the lawyer, and the consigliere. The other men, except for a few of Fat Tony's bodyguards, had been dismissed for the day. He glanced across the table through the cigar smoke, where his future "wife" remained calmly seated as the lawyer started to ask her questions, to which she gave equally-as-calm answers. Something about receiving money up-front. Brother and sister in jail over drug dealing? Michael barely remembered the baby Simpson, but he was mildly interested in what had happened to the older brother. Guess Bart Simpson did live up to his "badboy-wannabe" lifestyle...

Then suddenly, all eyes were on him. The lawyer had asked Michael a question, but he had not heard what it was. Would he be so kind as to repeat it?

"Michael Solofiore D'Amico, by signing this document, you are hereby agreeing to the following terms and conditions. Are you of sound mind and body?"

He nodded slowly. "Yes."

"Section One. 'Terms'. You agree to stay married for a minimum of one fiscal year before…"

As if he didn't know how to read. Michael sat back and let his mind wander as the lawyer recited the document to him. As subtle as the tobacco crept up inside him, he started to think back to what had happened earlier in the day.

"_What are you doing here?" she asked rather unexpectedly. It was a little strange...why should she be so surprised he showed up at her door?_

_Michael shrugged it off and pushed his way inside. "I know you said you'd call later…but I couldn't wait. Do you have a minute?" He sounded nervous._

_Jessica closed the door and turned around with an air of mild annoyance. "You want to sit down for a bit?" she replied with an air of resignation._

_But Michael continued to pace around restlessly. "My dad is trying to break us up again. I've had enough of his bullshit." After a long inhale, he spoke again. "Let's run away together."_

"_What?" Jessica was justifiably confused by this sudden proposal. She studied him closely to see if he was joking._

_He took out a cigarette and lit it. "My dad basically wants to disown me for being in love with you. I don't know why. And I don't care. I don't care about anything else except being with you. He's threatening to cut me out of his will if I don't leave you. Says he'll leave me nothing after his death."_

_Jessica raised her eyebrows dubiously, but Michael never noticed as he took another drag from his cigarette. "As if that's gonna stop me. Hah! None of that matters to me, as long as I have you!"_

"_I'm surprised your dad would react this way. He always seemed so caring. But," she dropped her sweet voice into a somber whisper, "how will you survive? I mean, you can't just live out on the streets or something like that_!"

"Section Two: Force majeure. In the case of unexpected events such as an accident, injury, sickness, war…."

Michael's thoughts were briefly broken by the lawyer again, but he nodded as his mind drifted back once more.

"_Don't worry, Jess. I still have a lot of my own money saved up. Of course, I'll probably have to get a part-time job so that we'll continue to have support. But I got it all planned out."_

_Jessica seemed to be unconvinced – especially at the phrase "part-time job" – but she continued to listen._

_Michael looked out the balcony of Jessica's apartment with a meditative air as he held his fading cigarette. "I'll find a job as a chef. Go to classes in the evening. I want to go back to school. Maybe I'll study cooking, or take up food science…or do work in environment-protecting field like my mother wanted. Either way," he turned and walked towards Jessica again, "we can make it work. Or I can make it work. For me, for both of us. So…what do you say, babe?"_

_Jessica kissed him gently on the lips. "It's a wonderful idea, " she began, "but Michael…I can't bother seeing you mistreated like this by your own father. Your own father, for God's sake!" She stroked his hair sympathetically, and then gazed deeply into his eyes. "You really can't let him do this to you."_

_Something about her eyes always made him freeze and fall into a magic spell that seemed to hold him for hours, even long after she left. Michael was once again held in the palm of her hand as she pursed her lips before speaking again. "What would happen if we didn't run away…and if we didn't break up?"_

_He stared at her with a blank look. Such an idea had never occurred to him. The explanation came out in a somewhat broken manner, but Jessica wisely remained quiet as she listened to Michael. After a silent pause, Jessica pulled him closer._

"_So…if you did go through with his 'plan', then…everything stays the same?"_

_He nodded, and then she smiled. _

"_Call his bluff, baby."_

_Now it was Michael's turn to be confused. "You mean…I should play along with his game?" He sounded incredulous._

_Jessica put a finger to his lips, as to keep from shouting. "It's the only way to show your dad that you __**won't**__ be pushed around like this."_

_Michael still looked unsure. He turned around to the wall mirror as Jessica crept up from behind and wrapped her slim arms around his waist. _

"_You deserve to have the world. But your dad is keeping you away from it. Don't let him take your world away, Michael."_

"Michael, are you even listening?" Fat Tony demanded. He was more than a little annoyed with his half-awake son.

Michael glanced up blankly at his irate father. "Yes, Papa."

The lawyer gathered up the papers together in a single, swift movement and placed them before Michael. He then presented a shiny ballpoint pen and clicked it open for him.

After Michael signed, the paper was then turned over to Lisa, who at first looked like she was caught up in a reverie of her own. She was wide-eyed when the lawyer called her name the second time, and she clutched at the pen.

Lisa stared at the dotted lines before her and took a deep breath. 'Just for one year. You can do it, Lisa. Technically…they're _not_ asking you to do anything illegal, except to work for them for a year. What's a _single_ year out of a million problems that have piled up since now?' She lifted the heavy pen. It felt like picking up a pound of lead. She quickly signed, lest she changed her mind at the last minute.

"So how much did my dad bribe you with?"

Lisa looked up with a start. She had not been expecting anybody to talk to her while they were all getting up to leave.

"I'm sorry?" She was unsure of what he had said.

Michael smirked as he put on his coat. "You don't have to play dumb with me. Aren't you supposed to be the town nag? I'm sure you didn't agree to this out of your own 'good nature'. Guess even the most straight-laced prude can get moved by a couple of dollar signs." He lit a cigar.

Lisa watched the smoke spread out around him like wildfire, much like the rage she was now starting to feel.

"Yes, I am doing it for the money," she coldly began, trying to control her anger, "but when your brother and baby sister were incompetent enough to be taken advantage of by a couple of conniving _thugs_ like yourselves and are facing criminal charges because of them, there really is no other choice but to fight fire with fire."

"It's their own damn business getting mixed up with the wrong crowd." replied Michael, a little annoyed at her emphasized use of the word 'thug'. "What's it got to do with you?"

Lisa wrapped her scarf around before answering. "My family. So of course it is my 'damn business' too." She was then escorted to a car by one of Fat Tony's men.

Michael shrugged to himself and got into his own car. Fat Tony remained behind with Johnny Tightlips and his bodyguards, having watched the rather interesting dialogue between the two future partners with much amusement.

* * *

><p>The drive back home from the precinct was a blur. Bart and Maggie sat in the back exchanging silent glances at each other, while Lisa was in the front passenger seat beside the big, scary-looking driver. Nobody said a word until they arrived home. Lisa was the first to break the silence with a short "Thank you" to the man, and the other two stumbled out of the car following Lisa.<p>

Maggie had had enough of the tension, so she gave it a shot. "Oh, Lisa! I knew you couldn't stay mad at us forever!" She held out her arms awkwardly for a hug, only to find Lisa remaining stiff and unwilling to return it.

"Here's how it's going down," she spoke in an indifferent voice, "Bart, you were on-call for a graveyard shift at the construction site. And Maggie, you spent the night at Aunt Patty and Selma's studying with Ling. I trust that you are at least able to put up an act for Mom's sake, despite your shortcomings in 'import and export'."

"Thanks, Lise. I guess we really owe you one," Bart replied meekly as he stared at his shoes. "But who was that guy? And how did you get the money to get us out?"

Lisa unlocked the front door and opened it. "I'll tell you about it later. Right now, all you need to know is that both of you are scot-free of any charges, so you can go back to your lives just as before." She stepped inside. "You can help me out later in return."

* * *

><p>Maggie nervously waited in front of the school as she smoked a cigarette to calm her nerves. She suspected her boyfriend had been ignoring her calls ever since she came back home, and only now was she able to get a hold of him. Gerald always came to school a little early. They had no classes together, so this was her only time to catch him. A dark figure approached from the distance as she rushed up to meet him.<p>

"I'm so glad to finally see you." Maggie quickly stomped out her smoke as she leaned in to kiss him. But instead of getting a kiss back, he glared at her silently.

Maggie generally felt guilty whenever he was upset about something…even if it was not her fault. But today, she too felt a growing resentment. Surely he could not care more about 'business' than the well-being of his girlfriend?

"You know I put everything on the line for you." she whispered darkly, without beating around the bush.

"Yeah. Including me." retorted Gerald as he tried to push past her.

She desperately clung onto him, immediately falling back on her guilt – as well as with every intention to get something she now felt she needed from him.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Look, they decided to stop the charges so we're both gonna be okay. Even if they hadn't…you know I would never mention your name! I…love you," Maggie was a little hesitant with the last three words. She had not said them for a long time, and as of late, she started to wonder if she truly did live by her statement. Mostly because he had never repeated it to her.

Gerald finally relented and turned around as Maggie flung herself onto his rigid body. He had to admit, she was such an eager, submissive little thing when she wanted to be. It gave him a sense of twisted pride that he had such power over a girl who was otherwise known to others as a 'tough bitch.' But he could not show her that he had forgiven her just yet. She still needed to be punished for giving away his prized possession in the first place.

"Do you?" he coolly replied.

"Yes," Maggie adjusted herself as he remained still instead of receiving her into his arms. "Which is why I'll take up on your suggestion about that…job…you mentioned before. It's the least I can do for you…" She smiled weakly as he raised his eyebrows at this sudden announcement. It had been a while since he last asked her to do it, so he was rather surprised she had changed her mind, after being so adamantly against it.

Gerald broke into a smug laughter. "Hey, I guess you do love me after all." He slapped her butt rather aggressively as they headed inside.

* * *

><p>Maggie knew deep in her heart that she did not want this. But at times of adversity, one could not be so complacent as to pick and choose her choice of careers – like Lisa was proving. She studied the rather gloomy-looking wooden exterior against the evening waterfront background – it reminded her of a sad saloon of the Wild West that had been uprooted and misplaced in front of an emotionless, urban beach. If it had not been for the large, shady-looking group of men loitering at the front, she would admit that it was sort of a charming, unique place. The faux climbing ivy and the little yellow lights that decorated the railings of the patio seemed to alleviate the surrounding, dark atmosphere, but the general lack of streetlights and the abundance of empty-looking warehouses in the area overpowered any hint of warmth. She held her breath to remain steady and not make any eye contact as she passed by the men, who looked at her curiously.<p>

The interior was also dimly lit, but it had a warmer feel than the outside. The patrons were mostly men dressed in suits, with a few nicely-dressed women accompanying them. Nobody ate, burped, or talked too loudly, which kept up the rather upscale appearance. Each table had its own burning candle, giving it a romantic look. The décor of more faux ivy and dark red rose vines added to its sensual surroundings. Maggie could not figure out why she would describe it as 'sensual', until a young woman with long, flowing hair wearing a low-cut, black mini dress walked by with a tray of empty martini glasses towards the bar. It was the shortest dress she had ever seen…and it augmented the woman's entire body, with a small white apron tied at her waist that contrasted with the black. It seemed to emphasize her cleavage even more.

Maggie was staring wide-eyed after her when another girl approached from behind.

"May I help you?" she demanded in an unfriendly voice.

Quickly, Maggie broke from her gawking and turned around to face the hostess. "Yes. I was…uh…sent here for a…possible job opportunity?" She struggled to speak as the girl continued to stare down at her…even though Maggie was taller. "I'm Maggie Simpson. Nice to meet you!" she hurriedly added, and held out a nervous hand.

The hostess did not take her hand, and only continued to eye her suspiciously. "Follow me." Without waiting for Maggie, she started her way towards a dark corner of the room. Maggie quickly trailed after her.

Upon walking into the office, the girl viciously called out to a group of people sitting around a coffee table, "Hey! Who ordered the underage ugly duckling for delivery?"

Some of the men snickered at the cruel joke as they glanced over at Maggie, who was turning pale with shock and horror from such an unexpectedly rude reception. The girl also laughed and turned to her again. "What'd you say your name was?"

"Maggie." She replied, after recovering her wits and words. One of the men signaled for her to come closer, to which Maggie would have refused if it had not been for the hostess pushing her along. The rest of the men started to gaze at Maggie, from top to bottom. She started to sweat uncomfortably, as if their sneering eyes were burning her like a witch on a stake.

"Can you turn around…in a full circle?" one of the men suddenly asked, after what seemed like a long moment of silence.

"What?" Maggie gasped, confusedly. Did she hear them right, or was she just light-headed from the overwhelming heat of the restaurant furnace? She glanced at the man, who was gazing at her in a creepy, menacing way.

"Turn around, he said." The hostess girl loudly repeated. "Are you deaf?"

Somehow, the authoritarian voice of the girl prompted Maggie to comply – even though normally, she would have fought back at such a bully. Some of the others chuckled as Maggie slowly turned around in a circle, afraid of what would happen if she did not.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't see why this has anything to do with a job interview." Maggie managed to utter, after another uncomfortably long silence.

The girl let out a short, contemptuous laugh. "Well, with an attitude like that, I'm not sure if you're even hirable."

"Now hold on," spoke one of the men, "isn't this the girly that punk ass picciotto was talking about? Jerry, Jerome, uh…"

"Gerald?" Maggie's eyes lit up in anticipation.

"Yeah, that's his name. You're like, his main slut, aren't you?"

Maggie did not know how to respond to that. And what did he mean by _'main'_?

"She looks awfully young, though." worried another. "Hey! How old are you anyway?"

"Ah, Jess can take care of all the legal matters if anythin' comes up. Now if we hire you, don't you go runnin' your mouth about this gig to your little friends or family. Capiche, sweetheart?"

"N-no, I won't…" stuttered Maggie. She was still emotionally recovering from the word 'slut'.

"I don't know…" The hostess girl shook her head as she watched Maggie's squirming. "She looks like the type to squeal. Like a pig."

The man with the creepy gaze got up and walked towards Maggie. "No, she's fine. I like her. Has a very 'innocent' look to her, you know? Don't worry, darling," he turned to her, "You're gonna enjoy workin' here. Gerald told us good things 'bout you, so you're definitely hired. Cristina here will show you the ropes. You got nothin' to worry about."

Maggie soon found herself outside the office, once again trailing after the hostess girl who handed her a paper-wrapped package. "Just show up tomorrow wearing your uniform around 3 or 4. You'll start your training right away."

Maggie looked reluctantly at the package, knowing exactly what it would be, which Cristina caught and sternly warned her, "If you don't like it, you can always quit. Nobody's stoppin' ya."

The latter quickly shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I…just want to thank you for hiring me." She smiled at Cristina as she clutched onto the uniform.

"Yeah, whatever. Don't have to bullshit me. See you tomorrow, and don't be late." She led Maggie out the door and went back in before she could say anything else.

* * *

><p>Later that night, Lisa stopped by in Maggie's room on the way to bed.<p>

"So, how did that job interview go today?" Her older sister smiled.

Maggie gripped the book she was reading. She had not wanted Lisa to know. 'Last time I'll trust Bart to keep a secret,' she thought. "Great! They hired me on the spot, haha…" she replied casually.

"Well, that's good news." Lisa was genuinely surprised. "I think a lot of places don't hire people so quickly these days."

"Unlike yourself?" quipped Maggie as she turned a page. When she was met with only silence, Maggie sighed.

"I'm sorry, Lisa. How is it going with Fat Tony and the crew?" She closed her book as Lisa sat down on her bed.

"It's not as bad as I thought it'd be," Lisa seemed meditative as she replied. "Learned to do lots of paperwork so far. Still building the foundations of the company, but I think we're making progress each day."

"Was that young, dark haired guy Fat Tony's son?" asked Maggie, as she recalled a time when she went to pick up Lisa from work. "He doesn't look much like his dad. Certainly not fat like him!" Maggie giggled. She expected Lisa to laugh too, but again – she was met with silence.

"Are you okay?" Maggie was forced to ask.

Lisa quickly broke from her reverie. "Yes, of course. And yeah…Michael is certainly not like his dad, either. Or at least…not like how Fat Tony used to be."

Maggie continued to study Lisa's facial expression. "When's the wedding again?" She asked nonchalantly, opening up her book. She figured it would take some pressure off her sister if she made it look like she did not really care about the upcoming fake wedding.

"Haven't set an exact date yet, but we're hoping to get more people hired and trained before next month – so it'll probably be held then." Lisa started to pick at her thumbs.

"You like him, don't you?" Maggie suddenly asked.

"Is it that obvious?" retorted Lisa. It was no use trying to hide it with her baby sister. Maggie never minced words in such matters of the heart.

"It's natural to start liking someone you work with, I guess." shrugged Maggie. "But something tells me that he's not all too pleasant to work with?"

"Well…it's not exactly that, but he definitely isn't the most humble one…nor the nicest one…so yeah, you're right." admitted Lisa in her circular reasoning. "But I just can't help feeling so….attracted to him. Despite him being a bit of a jerk. I don't know what's wrong with me." She tossed her head impatiently and looked at Maggie. "What's wrong with me?"

Her baby sister adjusted her glasses as she continued to flip through her book. "I think you're just lonely…and haven't gotten laid for a while. So naturally you're so uptight about it."

"Maggie!" Lisa angrily grabbed at her book.

"What?" Maggie struggled to talk amidst her laughter. "It's true though, isn't it?"

Lisa haughtily got up and started to walk towards the door. "Thanks for taking me so seriously."

"All right, I'm sorry." Maggie closed her book and patted at her bed. "But I had to break this tension a little. Here, come back and we'll have a sisterly heart-to-heart, like the good ol' times."

"He has a girlfriend and all. It feels rather unfair for her, but Fat Tony was pretty adamant that we get married, at least for one full year. I'm thinking he doesn't like the girlfriend, whoever she is. Michael must feel extremely stressed out about it." commented Lisa as she sat back down.

"My guess is, he figured that the only way a woman as smart as you would ever work for him is if she was married to his son, so he forced you into it. Sounds like a typical, scummy Mafia thing to do."

"You'd think so. But I'm actually starting to enjoy working with some of them. And Fat Tony is really not that 'evil' as a human, I don't think. At least, he seems much more lenient than that Johnny Tightlips guy when it comes to making mistakes." sighed Lisa.

"So the mafia guys aren't as awful as they seem. Heh, what an inspiration. I hope that proves the same for my bosses," Maggie started to think out loud by mistake when she caught Lisa's eye. "Not that…any of them were mean to me today. Haha, no siree…."

"Where do you start work again? I don't think you've told me that yet." Lisa started to walk around the room, examining various knick knacks that were scattered around.

Maggie quickly pounced on her answer. "Starbucks! My first day is actually tomorrow. I'm so excited to join the incredible world of…coffee brewing." She recalled the coffee shop that was several blocks away from the restaurant…and was not sure if it was indeed a Starbucks or not.

"Oh! Good luck tomorrow. Do you want me to drive you there and pick you up after?"

"No!" exclaimed Maggie unexpectedly, causing Lisa to jump and look at her in surprise. "I…it's my first day, Lisa. If I showed up with my older sister in front of all the older kids, I'd be a complete dork. Come on." She laughed sheepishly to ward off any suspicions. "Plus, my training starts at 4pm, I think. I'm gonna go there right from school."

Lisa finished tidying up Maggie's desk as she walked towards the door again. "Well, all right. Be careful, and don't be so stressed about your first day. And," she added as she grabbed the doorknob, "don't forget about your studies either. I'm sure you don't want to work in a coffee shop for the rest of your life."

"Hah! Of course not…"

"Gosh, I can't believe it. You and I are the first to start a new job. 'A new beginning!' I just hope Bart will be able to find something soon too."

"Don't worry. He's not all that big of a screw-up anymore. He's changed ever since you left for college…changed for the better."

"Goodnight, Mags."

" 'Night, Lisa." Maggie watched her sister close the door, and then turned onto her side. She had not told Lisa all about her progress in school. At this point, Maggie figured she'd be lucky to just finish this school year. With a hopeless sigh, she switched off her lamp.

In her young, inexperienced life, Maggie was fighting against the darkness of oblivion and uncertainty, but her older sister was starting to flourish in her newfound career. Her project with Cecil was on hiatus at the moment, but Lisa never felt more assured with herself as the paycheques she brought home were more than enough to cover both her family's debt as well as save up for her future plans. It did not, of course, come to her easily. She had been placed specially under Johnny Tightlips' tutelage, who proved to be more than just a man of few words. In fact, he spoke so little that he explained things only once – and expected her to learn and understand everything right away. At one point, poor Lisa was reduced to mindless tasks such as fetching coffee and other refreshments for a high-powered meeting between potential business partners and her tough-as-nails mentor. She was not 'ready' to sit in such a meeting yet, he had gruffly decided.

Despite that, she was able to make major decisions along with Michael and the rest of his father's men for weekly meetings. One of the first official meetings she had was when they were discussing what their company goal would be.

"Seeing as how most of the money comes from 'protection', perhaps we can expand this as 'insurance.' Instead of using blackmailing and savage beatings to protect others, we can provide them financial support or reimbursement for any losses they may get from negative circumstances."

"Huh. I guess we can't blackmail or beat them into joining our in-shur-rah-prazoot or whaddaya-call-it either?" sniffed Kenny the Problem.

Lisa choked back a sudden desire to laugh. He had spoken in complete earnest…but the ignorance of these old men was ridiculously comedic. Almost sad, too, because it showed that a lot of them knew nothing about the real world after living in their own for so long.

"No, I'm afraid not." Lisa replied in a weak voice.

"If we focus on mainly insurance, what should we do for the other things?" inquired Legs.

She cleared her throat. "The best way to merge everything together is if you offer shares to the public."

"You mean…let other people get in on our profits?" Louie raised his hands in disbelief.

"We will retain the majority of ownership, of course." Lisa quickly added, "But we need to secure extra support from angel investors before we can safely incorporate the rest of Tony's businesses."

Michael sat quietly for a minute to think about this. "I have to agree. The company is still pretty 'young'. An IPO might be just what we need."

"We need more employees first," said Johnny Tightlips, for the first time since the meeting had begun. "We're too small of a company for the public to have any faith in us. Not to mention that the number of other businesses we own outnumbers the workers. Who's gonna look after the construction firm, the mining and refining business, the farmlands…?"

The room fell silent. Fat Tony sighed as he realized the uneven ratio himself. Who would want to work for such a man as himself, let alone a company that came from the roots of organized crime?

Lisa was the first to speak again. "I…uh, have taken the initiative to gather some people who might be interested in working for us…" She nervously tugged at her pen as she realized everybody was staring at her now.

"Who do you recommend?" asked Johnny, the second to break the silence.

Encouraged by this, Lisa smiled and sheepishly pulled out a list of names.

* * *

><p>"I'm pretty impressed how well you've been able to herd them together." commented Michael as they walked down the street. "Don't you find them intimidating at all?"<p>

"Well, I do. But it's not like I can show that I am scared of them. How will they ever listen to me then?" She laughed softly.

Michael smirked. "You can always get my dad to give them a 'word or two' if you don't get your way, I suppose."

Lisa nipped a smile in the bud, as she felt his arrogance getting on her nerves again. "Seeing as your dad has bribed me to work for him, I guess he has more faith in me than you do." She pulled up her scarf with an impatient jerk. The sunny Spring day suddenly felt cold. "You don't think I can hold my own?"

Michael stopped to open the door to the café. "Don't get so offended now. But you don't know what kind of people you're dealing with. I think that, as the son of a criminal, I know more about all this than you do. You're just a young, innocent girl from the suburbs who happened to waltz her way through Mount Holyoke and sold a few Girl Scout cookies for Darfur here and there." He held the door open, and stood waiting on the side. "After you." He motioned with his other arm for her to go in.

Despite the fact that this was the first time a guy had held a door open for her, Lisa was more annoyed than touched by this unexpected act of chivalry. Just before he followed her inside, she pushed back the door and turned around to face him.

"First off. I went to Wellesley. I may have had a full-ride scholarship, but at least my dad didn't have to pay off anybody at the admissions office. Second, I've been building schoolhouses in Darfur since high school while you were, no doubt, engaged in such debauchery like puking your brains out at parties from all that booze and ecstasy pills that apparently has affected your head today."

Michael stared blankly at her before breaking into a hearty laugh. "You're saying I'm dumb? That's the fanciest, long-winded, saddest attempt at an insult I've ever heard." He put his hand on her shoulder as they walked in together. "At least your effort is admirable. I like it."

As Michael read out a list of coffee and pastry orders to the cashier, Lisa noticed that many of the young female patrons were eyeing at him – and then at her, with an unmistakable light of envy. She could not help but feel a growing sense of silly pride over this sudden attention. In all her girlish life, Lisa was the last girl to be envied by other girls – except in terms of grades and awards. But most often than not, she had wished to be admired for something other than her brains or her achievements. She grimly recalled a cruel joke that was printed in her old high school yearbook – being voted as "The Next Crazy Cat Lady" or "Most Likely To Be Single Forever" were questionable attributes that she could not get rid of when she was editing for the yearbook club – but now! Evidently, these women thought she was his wife, as they were both wearing the gold engagement rings that Fat Tony had made them wear in public. They looked at her with disappointment, as if she was the last person to be with someone as handsome as Michael.

Lisa tossed her hair with contempt and a renewed sense of superiority, as she smiled at one particular young girl who was staring intently at her. Lisa slightly raised her eyebrows at her, as if to silently say, _"Jealous? I know!"_

Michael, who had been busy making sure that the barista had got all of the coffee orders correctly (because the old farts that worked with his dad were grumpy and hard-to-please), glanced at Lisa, who was still engaged in the silent staring war with the stranger girl. "Are you okay?" he asked, turning to the direction of where Lisa was looking, but failing to spot what she was looking at.

Lisa quickly turned around, hoping to hide what she had been really doing. "Yes, of course! Are we…are we ready to go now?" She grabbed one of the drink trays and grinned at him.

The walk back to the office was another adventure for Lisa. Michael, who was carrying a big paper bag of baked goods under one arm and balancing a large drink tray with the other, made sporadic comments about regretting not having driven to the café instead. Lisa casually murmured a reply in between, reminding him several times that walking was a good exercise for them after sitting at the meeting all day. She carried her drink tray with an absent mind, barely paying attention to what Michael was saying, but again noticing that so many girls were gazing at him – and again, feeling that superficial sense of pride.

He was indeed, very handsome. Though he was not too tall, his gorgeous black-brown hair and broad shoulders set him apart from the rest of the tall male population. Michael had large, dark doe eyes that still retained quite a bit of his childhood melancholy, on closer inspection – and when his face was set to an unsmiling, neutral state, he looked rather cold and perhaps even unfriendly. Lisa secretly felt that he looked exactly like, "One of those guys you would see passing on a street, or at a shopping mall, or on a train – and he's so beautiful; you can't take your eyes off him…but you're not lucky enough to have met him…nor lucky enough to _ever_ meet, because you just know that a guy like him would never be interested in a girl like you." She sighed as she recalled one of her late-night crisis talks with Maggie.

Michael, however, seemed to be blissfully unaware of his physical beauty – or, he was already used to it that he no longer noticed that he turned the heads of many young girls and women alike whenever he was outside. Clearly he was focused on more important things in life. Despite his small bursts of arrogance towards her, Lisa felt herself increasingly attracted to him, more and more each day. He was also surprisingly well-educated - from Princeton, as his dad had proudly boasted – and had great, innovative ideas of his own for the company. And when he had kindly opened the door for her earlier…but Lisa had to stop thinking like this. It was nothing more than a business relationship, and it was about to be put into legal writing in a few months or so, too. Nothing more. It also did not help that Michael apparently had a serious relationship with another girl. Even though Lisa felt guilty as a fellow woman for going along with Fat Tony's obvious plan to wreck his son's relationship, she also felt a rather strong, nagging sense of envy herself towards this other woman.

"All right, gentlemen. Buon appetito!" Michael exclaimed as he and Lisa returned from the café, setting out the baked goods onto a large plate. The old men mumbled with satisfaction amongst each other as they dug into the pastries and sipped complacently on their drinks. Just as Lisa was reaching for a muffin, she received a text message from an unknown number.

"Hey, Lisa. It's Nelson. I got your number from Maggie. Heard you're back in town, how have you been? I miss you. Call me sometime, if you want."

Lisa felt her heart beating wildly not with the excitement of possibly reuniting with an old boyfriend, but with confusion. She had not spoken to him for several years now. They had had such an emotionally draining, on-and-off relationship since middle school that they had finally decided to break up when Lisa was in her Sophomore year in college. Well, actually…it was Nelson who had left her for one of the Mackleberry twins. Sherri…or was it Terri? Lisa sipped on her coffee rather anxiously. She was not sure if she wanted him back after what he had done. But Lisa was also very lonely…and it had been so long since she had even went out on a date. As she watched Michael laughing on his phone with his girlfriend, Lisa shrugged and decided to text back. Perhaps they could have coffee together, just for old time's sake?

* * *

><p>Fat Tony had been vastly pleased with the progress they had been making. Even though Lisa had no previous related-work experience, he truly appreciated all her contributions as they turned out to be very well thought-out and precise – something that he had needed for his company. Johnny Tightlips, albeit being the only senior member in the Family to have a higher education besides his son, could probably not have done just as well. Or rather – even he could, Fat Tony would never let him have any more power than he did now. Tightlips was intelligent, quick-thinking, and strong-willed. He was also extremely loyal… too loyal, to at least one other person besides Fat Tony. If Tightlips still held resentment against him after what had happened to Anna Maria - …<p>

But he quelled those quivering thoughts. Tony got up and walked over to the liquor cellar, fetching himself a shiny, emerald bottle of absinthe. He held the spoon with shaking hands as he watched the ice cold water gently pouring over the delicate sugar cube. Suddenly, he lost the grip on the spoon and the sugar drowned itself into the green. Tony angrily threw the glass across the dimly-lit room, the sound of shattering glass echoing back to him in the darkness of a corner somewhere.

He took the bottle upstairs to his study, and took a small sip – as he crashed onto a nearby couch. Tony closed his eyes, reaching for the bottle once more when his desk phone rang. He did not want to pick it up, but the ringing seemed to continue on forever. Reluctantly, Fat Tony pulled himself up and walked over to it.

"Hello." Tony took another sip of the bottle as he waited for the caller to speak.

"Good evening, Fat Tony."

Bettina was a petite Italian lady who was the only housekeeper on duty that night. She had just finished cleaning up the broken glass in the wine cellar when she happened to walk by the study – and heard another loud crash. Rightfully alarmed, she peeked nervously inside the room, where Fat Tony had his back turned towards her. The broken pieces of glass under his soaking, wet slippers seemed to sparkle in the glimmering pool of emerald.

"Signor D'Amico…?" she whispered. Bettina was rather afraid to get closer to him.

Fat Tony did not know she was there, so he made no reply. He was glued to the phone, slightly shaking.

"You think you can easily threaten me?" He asked in a low voice, trying to hide his emotions.

"Obviously you are already feeling threatened. Why didn't you just cut him out of your precious will already instead of playing silly little games like this?"

Tony did not know what to say. But his shaking was getting more violent – he held onto his desk for balance.

"You are quite clever though, for someone who never went to college. I almost got pulled in by your bullshit scheme. But you better watch yourself, now that I have the upper hand."

"What?" Tony whispered.

Jessica Lovejoy laughed slowly in her breathy voice. "I know what your son and his fake fiancée doesn't know – what the rest of your goons don't know – not even your clown of a consiglière, Johnny Tightlips, knows about it. And trust me – YOU don't want them to know about it either."

Fat Tony felt himself struggling to breathe. He accidentally tumbled onto the floor, prompting Bettina to rush over and hold him up. He managed to gasp out his words.

"What…do…you…want?"

Jessica sat back calmly into her couch, and lifted her legs up onto an armrest as she listened to Fat Tony's heavy gasping on the other line, who was clearly in distress. She then glanced over at her bed, where she could hear Michael's gentle breathing as he slept in a deep, peaceful slumber, pathetically unaware of his father's suffering.

"I want, "Jessica twirled her hair complacently, "to work for you."

* * *

><p><strong>End of Chapter 4.<strong>

* * *

><p><em><span><strong>Notes:<strong>_ Ah! Sorry for the rather flat-falling ending there. But this is where the action starts!

So Maggie is underage, but she's going to work as a bar maid at some seedy "restaurant" where a bunch of foul-mouthed hoodlums run the place.

Lisa has a crush on Michael…big surprise. But will she get back with Nelson instead? D:

What does Anna Maria, Fat Tony's late wife, have anything to do with Johnny Tightlips?

And Jessica…who knew how heartless she could be… ;_;

Stay tuned! :)


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